Lost in Time_Split-Second Time Travel Story 1

by Ken Johns

  “Go help John.” Mila returned to watching the back of the inn.

  Sandra stood up. “We need someplace to hide, so John can heal. Then he can make a plan to get your Chad back.”

  “Chaddy’s cottage,” Margaret said, as though there was no other choice.

  “Won’t they be watching it?” Jess asked.

  “I had not thought of that, but everything you need is there. Food, water, weapons and the em-see-vee that you people use to come and go.”

  “Well, I guess we’re going to Chad’s, then,” Jess said.

  “Hang on,” Sandra said. “What if somebody is watching it?”

  “We don’t have a choice. We need the MCV. We’ll just have to take a look and make a plan based on what we find,” said Jess. “How long will it take to get there if we stay off the roads?”

  “Half the day,” said Margaret.

  “Even if we’re carrying John?” Mila kept her eyes on the inn.

  “Good point. Are there any horses in that stable?” Jess asked.

  “Just one,” Margaret said.

  Mila glanced over at the stable off to their right in the trees. Jean-Pierre led the horse out the door. Jess sprinted toward him.

  “Just get him clear of the horse!” Mila ran after her.

  Jean-Pierre must have heard her shout, because he spun toward the horse. He lifted his foot up to the stirrup, presenting Jess with a perfect target. She field-goaled his dangling testicles. He fell back from the horse and collapsed, cradling his balls. Jess took the reins of the horse as Mila stopped next to him and aimed the crossbow at his head. This bastard had caused them enough trouble for one day.

  “You don’t have to kill him,” Jess said. “We’ll just tie him up again. We’ll be long gone by the time he gets loose.”

  “Do you think Annie will just leave a castle guard tied up in her back yard?” Mila didn’t take her eyes off him.

  “Probably not.”

  “Exactly. She’ll untie him the minute we leave.”

  “But we can’t kill him. We just need to slow him down so he’s not a threat.”

  Mila lowered her aim, letting the sights trail down his body, pausing when she found his hands.

  John lay motionless on the ground. He’d always taught her that actions had consequences. Well, this motherfucker was the reason they were cold, wet, and running for their lives. The hair on the back of Mila’s neck stood up, and she began to shake as she slowly brought her eyes back to Jean-Pierre.

  “Non!” he shouted.

  She squeezed the release lever. The bolt pinned his hands to his groin and the dirt under them. The crossbowman’s eyes rolled up into his head, and he passed out.

  “Mila! I meant shoot him in the leg or something.”

  “I picked something.” Mila’s voice cracked.

  Jess grabbed her shoulders and spun her around. “What’s wrong with you?”

  Mila let the tears run down her cheeks. “He shot Dad.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  April 28, 1341

  Sandra rode behind John on the horse’s rump. He was wedged into the saddle and had drifted in and out of consciousness. Right now, he was out. His chin rested on his chest, and it was all she could do to keep him centered in the saddle. Her elbows burned from the constant strain of keeping him balanced as he teetered from side to side.

  Margaret led them through the forest. They had forded streams and climbed hills most of the morning. The low-hanging branches threatened constantly, but because John was in front of her, he absorbed the brunt of it with his chain mail. She felt a bit guilty about hiding behind his unconscious bulk, but even so, her forearms were raked raw.

  “We are almost there,” Margaret said as she stopped the horse and pointed down through the forest. “You cannot see it, but the cottage is at the bottom of this hill.”

  “Okay, I need a break.” Sandra waved to her daughters. “Come here.” She let John slip toward them. “Watch his head.”

  They caught him and half-lowered, half-dropped his two-hundred-and-twenty-pound frame to the ground.

  “Thanks. I don’t know how much farther I could have gone.” Sandra slid off the horse and massaged the inside of her elbows and biceps. “You and Mila go with Margaret and take a look around. Be careful and stay out of sight. We’ll make a plan when you get back. Okay?”

  “Yes, Sergeant.” Jess gave her a mock salute. “You sound like Dad.”

  “Well, when you spend half your life with a guy, he tends to rub off on you.” She stepped between her daughters and reached up to put her arms around their shoulders. She gave them a little squeeze. “Go on. Look out for each other.”

  “We will.” Jess hugged her back and stepped away.

  “Look after John,” said Mila.

  “I will.” Sandra’s chest tightened as she watched them pick their way down the slope. When they were out of sight, gruesome images of what could happen to her babies began to flood her mind. An overwhelming urge to yell their names and race down the hill swept through her. They needed her.

  “Water?”

  She spun around. John lay there, looking up at her.

  “You bastard.” The tears ran down her cheeks. “What the hell are you doing lying around on your ass?”

  “I thought you said you weren’t going to be emotional in front of the girls.”

  “I’m not.” She took the jug off the horse and knelt beside him.

  He took a drink. “That’s not water.”

  “Apparently they don’t drink the water around here.”

  “I’m okay with that.” He took another long pull from the jug.

  “You like that stuff? The girls think it tastes like piss.”

  “I’ve tasted worse.” He handed the jug back to her. “Where are they?”

  “You just rest. They’ll be back soon.” Sandra fixed her eyes on the place she’d last seen the girls disappear into the trees. She wiped her tears on the back of her hand. With John awake and smiling, maybe things would work out.

  Chapter Eighteen

  April 28, 1341

  Jess crouched in the undergrowth at the north edge of Chad’s secluded farmstead. The entire clearing was about the size of a soccer field. Three small paddocks surrounded a two-story cottage and barn. The nearest paddock held pigs. The one to the east, upwind, smelled like cow, and the one behind the barn seemed empty. On the south side of the buildings, the clearing narrowed to a point where a two-rut track disappeared into the forest and probably led to the main road.

  There was something different about the place. The inn was well weathered and lived in. Here the wood hadn’t silvered yet. The thatching still had a hint of green. Everything was new. How could the SSTTC have built all this and still hoped to keep its tours anonymous?

  A carriage stood between the cottage and the barn. It had to be the one the guide was supposed to have brought to the meadow.

  Three men emerged from the cottage. They wore the same style of chain mail as the soldiers that had attacked them yesterday. One carried a wooden chest, the next carried a bundle of swords and axes. The third man held the drawstrings of three cloth sacks over his shoulder. They threw everything in a pile next to the carriage. One soldier began loading everything into the carriage, while the other two returned to the cottage.

  Why were the baron’s men stealing all of Chad’s stuff? Was he dead? Or was he just left to rot in the dungeon?

  The underbrush rustled to Jess’s left, and she glanced up as Mila rejoined her. “See anybody else?”

  “Not that way,” Mila said. “Where’s Margaret?”

  Jess scanned the forest edge to her right. She’d sent Margaret in the opposite direction, but she should have been back by now.

  “What do you want to do?” Mila squatted beside her, resting one knee on the ground. “I think we should steal the carriage.”

  “Mom wants us to come back after we recon.”

  “I know. I just think we might be abl
e to use some of the stuff they’re putting in it, and it would be way easier to carry John.”

  “Good call. When Margaret gets back—”

  “She’s not coming back.”

  “How do you know?” Jess followed Mila’s gaze across the farmyard. Margaret poked her head around the side of the barn. “What’s she doing?”

  Mila shrugged. “How would I know?”

  The two guards emerged from the cottage with another chest between them. They set it down next to the pile and stood there talking until the third guard pointed them toward the barn.

  Margaret ducked out of sight. Once the two had entered the barn, she reappeared and continued watching the man loading the carriage. When he disappeared through its door, she ran and hid behind the vehicle. The man emerged and picked up the swords. When he climbed back inside, Margaret ran for the cottage.

  The guards in the barn came out, leading a pair of horses. One of them started attaching the horses to the carriage, while the other walked into the cottage.

  “Shit,” said Mila.

  Jess held her breath, hoping Margaret had heard him coming and was safely hidden. They hardly knew Margaret, and now her reckless behavior had put them all in danger. Jess breathed out slowly. Dammit. Whatever Margaret was up to, they had to help her. Margaret was the only person who knew where the MCV was. Without it, they could never go home.

  “What’s the plan?” said Mila. “They’re getting ready to leave.”

  “I see that.” Jess said, but she just continued to stare across the field. She had a sword, Mila had the crossbow, but neither of them really wanted to get in a fight with these guys. If only Dad was here, he’d know what to do.

  “You know we don’t have time to go back for Mom, right?” Mila rested her fingertips on the ground on either side of her knee, like she was getting into the blocks, ready to blast across the field and help Margaret.

  “I get it,” Jess said. Mila would just wade in swinging, but this wasn’t a movie and Jess knew better. She had to come up with a plan. Margaret was trapped in the cottage and there were three men between…

  “What are we going to do?” Mila poked her shoulder.

  “Give me a minute.” Jess glared at her.

  “You don’t have a minute!”

  The guard came out holding a burning log with fireplace tongs. He threw the log and the tongs up on the roof. The thatching caught quickly, and the flames licked their way toward the peak. He stood near the door watching the fire spread.

  Crap. Now Margaret was trapped in a burning cottage.

  “We need a distraction,” Jess said.

  “I know. Like an explosion or something, right?”

  Jess ignored Mila’s excited contribution and worked the problem. If they could steal the carriage and get it going toward the road, that would certainly draw the soldiers away from the cottage. But if they had come on horseback, they’d be able to chase her down. “Did you see any other horses?”

  “No.” Mila shook her head. “Why?”

  The flames ate away at the thatching. Jess’s heart hammered in her chest. They needed to do something. Not sit here.

  “Okay. You draw one of the guards toward you and shoot him in the leg,” said Jess.

  “Why am I the bait? What are you going to do?”

  “I’m going to get Margaret and steal the carriage once that guy finishes attaching the horses.”

  “Why can’t I steal the carriage?” Mila said.

  “You’ve never been near a horse in your life.”

  Mila seemed to grasp the basic logic in the choice. “Fine. The leg. Then what?”

  “When he cries out, the others will come running. I’ll get Margaret, and we’ll jump on the carriage. You sneak around the edge of the glen and meet us where that track heads into the forest.” Jess pointed.

  “Sounds good.” Mila nodded. “But how do I get one of these bastards to come this way?”

  “I don’t know. They’re men, right? Why don’t you flash them?” Jess poked her in the boob.

  Mila lifted her elbow to block the intruding finger. “Seriously?”

  “It wouldn’t be the first time.”

  “Fuck you. It was a dare.”

  Jess smiled, stood into a crouch, and raced away.

  Mila kept her eye on the guy working on the horses. As soon as he stepped away, that would be her cue to create a distraction. And she wasn’t going to be flashing anybody. She could just yell. That would work fine.

  The guy attaching the horses to the carriage was taking his sweet time. Either that or he was an idiot. The fire had finished off the thatching and started in on the rafters. Margaret was running out of time. But Jess couldn’t make a play for the carriage until this guy finished his job.

  The rafters cracked and sagged as the fire devoured them, and the main beam collapsed into the cottage. Margaret screamed. The guy watching the cottage ran inside. The other guards moved closer to see what was going on.

  Jess’s plan was toast. She raced out of the forest toward the carriage. Mila stood up, but she didn’t yell right away. There was nobody on her side of the cottage to hear her anyway. She ran toward the pig paddock and ducked by the fence. Jess reached the carriage and vaulted onto the driver’s bench. She picked up the reins and the carriage started to roll. One horse let out a whinny.

  Two guards appeared, and ran after the carriage. Jess grabbed the whip and snapped it at the horses. They started to trot. The men chased her up the track.

  The third guard emerged from the cottage with Margaret’s inert form draped over his shoulder. Well, at least Margaret was out of the fire. But then the asshole laid her on the ground on her back. Her dress had ridden up while he carried her, and now she lay there, half-conscious and half-naked. The guard glanced around the field and hiked up his chain mail shirt.

  Mila stood up. “Hey, asshole!”

  He froze. Mila’s bolt leapt from her crossbow and sailed home. The man fell over backwards, screaming. Mila sprinted around the pig paddock toward Margaret.

  The men chasing Jess heard their screaming comrade. They stopped and raced back toward him.

  Mila helped Margaret to her feet. “Can you run?”

  Margaret shook her head. Mila lifted Margaret’s arm around her own shoulders and rushed toward the barn with Margaret limping beside her. When they reached the barn, Mila decided their best option was to keep right on going out the other end. They had almost reached the far door when two guards came racing in behind them.

  “Mila, I’m coming,” Jess yelled from somewhere outside.

  One of the guards heard her and went back out the door. The other one kept coming.

  They made it out the back door and Mila put Margaret down so she could reload her crossbow. She knelt about twenty feet from the mouth of the door and waited. Whoever came through would be ventilated.

  Jess steered the carriage toward the barn. “Mila, I’m coming.”

  One of the men must have heard her, because he came out of the barn to investigate and charged the carriage. Good, Mila only has one to deal with. Jess steered the horses off the track into the field and aimed them to the left of the barn. Maybe if she circled the barn, she’d meet Mila and Margaret coming out the back.

  The carriage rocked on the uneven ground and lost speed as its wheels rolled into the soft earth. She whipped the horses again. They pulled admirably, but the overloaded vehicle sank deeper and deeper into the field.

  The soldier was two strides away when she ground to a halt.

  “Get down!” The man stopped between her and the barn, blocking her path.

  “No.” She needed him to climb up after her, so she could jump down the other side and get a head start running. She snapped the whip toward his face.

  He winced. A small cut appeared on his neck. He put his hand up to it, and it came away bloody.

  She whipped him again.

  He ducked and put his arm up. The blow glanced off his chain mail. She
whipped him again. This guy was a slow learner. She needed to get him climbing.

  The man stepped back out of range.

  Great. Was he smart or scared? She took the whip and jumped down on the far side of the carriage.

  He did not move.

  Damn, smart after all. She would have to take the long way. Let’s see what you’ve got, smart guy. She took off at a fast jog, past the horses and toward the back of the barn. No sense showing him top speed sooner than necessary. The soldier ran after her. She had about a ten-meter lead on him. As long as she could maintain that, she would be out of sword range.

  The man started to close the gap.

  She accelerated to keep her lead.

  He matched her. Damn. Fast and smart. She put on a burst of speed as she rounded the corner to the back of the barn. Mila and Margaret stood outside the back door. Mila had her crossbow aimed at the opening.

  “Behind me.” Jess ran to her left, giving Mila a clear line of sight.

  “Can’t help you.” Mila did not take her eyes off the opening.

  “What?” Jess glanced behind her and saw Fast’n’smart come around the corner. She stopped and drew her sword.

  He slowed to stop, drawing his own sword, and smiled as he came en garde.

  Jess wouldn’t last in a prolonged sword fight. She needed to close with him, neutralize the sword, and take him down quickly. She whipped him again.

  “I’ve got a cagey one,” Mila said. “He won’t give me a target.”

  “Plenty of targets over here.” Jess whipped Fast’n’smart again.

  “I can’t shoot your guy and reload in time. My guy will come busting out at me.”

  “Make a run for the forest. That will draw him out.”

  “Margaret can’t run.”

  Fast’n’smart circled Jess, trying to go between her and Mila. “Dude, really?” She whipped him twice, driving him back. She needed to engage him, but she continued to delay the inevitable. She took a deep breath to calm herself. What was the worst that could happen? This guy could come up with a sword move that I can’t possibly anticipate, and I’ll be bleeding my guts out, that’s what.

  A rock pinged off his face. He put his arm up to protect himself. She whipped him. He tried to grab the end of the whip, but a piece of horse shit landed on his ear. Margaret was throwing anything and everything she could find.